


With Every Taste I Delight in You

by roxyryoko



Series: For Want of Words [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: After A support, But what if they just kissed?, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Church Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, First Kiss, Fluff, Illustrations, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), kissing is like fighting right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxyryoko/pseuds/roxyryoko
Summary: He cracked a grin and teased, “Ah, don’t stop. I like hearing how impressive I am. Big and strong and handsome. What else?”She cupped either side of his face. “Hopefully the best kisser in all of Fodlan after tonight.”“Woah, setting the bar pretty high aren’t you?”“What’s wrong with that? Thought you enjoyed rising to any challenge?”Caspar scoffed, “Pfft! Yeah! You want the best kisser in Fodlan? Then you’ll get him! You're not gonna wanna kiss anyone else ever again!”Hilda had slightly different intentions when she originally brought Caspar to her room, but with the reveal that she was his first kiss and his earnest confession she decided that she could dohima favor and train him to kiss.Illustrated
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: For Want of Words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071782
Comments: 33
Kudos: 128





	With Every Taste I Delight in You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alayyae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alayyae/gifts).



> Hello! This is my first illustrated fic! I've been really wanting to combine my two hobbies and I finally did it! 
> 
> Additionally, I wanted to explore an after A support/luggage fic where they don't have sex. Please enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback: Kaerra, Nightsstarr, and Abyssia!
> 
> Dedicated to Alayyae! Thank you for always being so supportive! Your kind words, help, and friendship mean a lot!

“All right!” Caspar boomed as he held open the door to Hilda’s room, earning her thanks as she skipped inside.

Entering the room behind her, Caspar swung the door closed, paying no heed when the latch didn't catch. He stopped in the center of the golden carpet, then cracked his neck and rolled out each shoulder.

“My muscles are at your service! Let’s get this luggage moved!”

Hilda simpered as she pressed her hip into the door, locking it with a faint click. Now effectively isolated from the rest of the world, she sauntered closer to Caspar. She stifled a laugh, amused at how he glanced around the room in search of the aforementioned luggage. Hopefully, he didn’t scavenge too efficiently. Her room was in its usual state of disarray: jewelry and artisan projects were scattered across her desk, multitudes of past-due library books were stacked in piles on her bookshelf and the adjacent floor, and rejected outfits as well as this week’s ensembles were heaped in front of the closet. To top it off, Hilda hadn't even made her bed. She justified the less than perfect circumstances with a simple fact: she hadn't woken up that morning _planning_ to seduce Caspar. Surely, he wouldn’t mind too much once he figured out “luggage” was a haphazard euphemism. 

“Oh, you’ll be hard-pressed to find any packed bags in here,” she giggled as she kicked a discarded dress out of her path.

The giddiness in her voice surprised her, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. The way he lavished her with compliments often made her weak at the knees, alleviating her worries and bestowing a sense of gratified bliss. Caspar’s recognition wasn’t earned through toil; it was simply granted for being herself, and Hilda couldn’t help but yearn for more. How would he compliment her body once it was laid out for his appreciation? 

Unfortunately, now that Hilda had Caspar in her bedroom, according to plan, the usual doubts of whether she was good enough resurged. Would his praise be enough to fill the void she so often felt? After all, asking him to reciprocate the confusing emotions keeping her up at night and distracting her in battle wasn’t exactly fair. Despite this one exception, Hilda didn’t ask for things. It’d hurt too much if he were to say no. 

Caspar turned to her, face riddled with confusion.

“Oh,” he said. “Do you need some help packing first?”

“No,” Hilda replied, positioning herself directly in front of him, mere inches separating them.

He didn’t move, but a raised brow signaled he was utterly perplexed. A soft blush tinted her cheeks. She couldn’t decide if she wanted him to notice or not, but she did find it difficult to look him in the eye. Instead, her gaze fell to the floor and she shrugged.

“I _maybe_ made up the whole luggage thing.”

He regarded her a moment before drawing his arms across his chest. “You really shouldn’t lie, Hilda.”

His tone didn’t scold, but Hilda couldn’t interpret the words as anything but a reprimand. Suddenly, she didn't feel quite so playful. She bit her lip. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

“Like I haven’t heard that a million times from my brother.” It wasn’t really a _lie_. He just didn’t understand the implication of her original innuendo.

“There’s no reason to,” he continued, softer. “I’ll help you out with whatever you want, any time. No shame, no judgement. That’s a promise, okay? I just…I’d rather you be truthful with me.”

“Truthful, huh?” she mused apprehensively. She risked a glance at him and his gentle smile took her aback, causing her heart to flutter slightly. “Okay,” she agreed and stepped so close to him their boots knocked.

This time he leaned back ever so slightly, obviously uncomfortable.

“You said I shouldn’t wait around for people to notice what I want, right?” Hilda pressed on.

He blinked and inhaled sharply. “Uh, yeah, something like that.”

“Well, you aren’t noticing what I want!”

Caspar’s face shifted from baffled one moment to astonished the next as Hilda arched up on her tiptoes and tugged him down by the collar. Before she lost her nerve, she pressed her lips against his own. 

She hated that he made her take action, but at this rate he’d never figure it out unless she was explicitly clear. What could be more evident of what she wanted—no, of her feelings—than _this_!

Caspar's lips were chapped and unresponsive, and his whole body flinched beneath her fingers. Instantly, she regretted ever changing her course. Eternally waiting around for him to pick up on her feelings seemed far less painful than the blow dealt by his apathetic response. Mortified, she opened her eyes to find cyan irises staring right back at her. Her grip slackened and she tore her lips away, stumbling back on her heels. Heart pounding, thoughts whirling in search of an excuse, she debated whether to laugh it off as a flirty tactic to garner favors or to sincerely apologize.

Before any words could form in her mind let alone her throat, Caspar’s hand wrapped around her wrist still resting against his collarbone. A large, stupid grin stretched across his face.

“And…and what do you want?” he prompted, voice lower than she ever heard but simultaneously boyish.

She blinked slowly, not daring to hope, barely hearing him above her apprehensive heartbeat. His smile held as he waited, surprisingly patiently.

Finally, she responded with dubiety, “I just kissed you, Caspar. Isn’t it pretty obvious?”

“Break it down for me.”

Hilda suddenly took great interest in their hands as she avoided answering. His were so much larger than her own, sturdy and square, riddled with callouses and nicked with an abundance of scars, but his grip on her wrist was delicate. She pursed her lips together, straining to figure out how to deflect. Didn't he know she didn’t like this whole _being-direct_ thing?

“Aren’t you more of the actions-speak-louder-than-words type?”

“Yeah, I am,” he chortled, though there was a nervous waver in his voice. “But this…I really want to hear you say.”

His deep exhale fluttered against her ear, spurring a shiver down her back.

“Are you afraid I won’t say it back?” he asked.

That surprisingly observative insight struck, and Hilda stiffened under the accurate accusation. 

“Cuz,” Caspar continued as he ran a calloused thumb in circles across her palm, causing Hilda's breath to catch. “Truth is, I’ve been really, really annoyed that you flirt with every other guy but me. And now, I think I figured out I’ve just been jealous. Pretty stupid, huh?”

Warmth flooded her chest, but uncertainty still hung its claws in her. There was still a chance he did not share her desires and Hilda wasn’t sure she could bear rejection. Unable to look at him and still determined to avoid answering, she huffed into his chest, “I’ve been flirting with _you_ too, dummy.” 

Jolting suddenly, he blurted, “What? No, you weren’t.” He paused, befuddled, and added, “Wait. Were you?”

“Yes, I was!” She shot him a glare and he recoiled with sheepish bewilderment. “I totally complimented your muscles just yesterday and—“

Caspar’s lips tickled the corner of her mouth, missing their target as he bolted down for an impulsive peck. Now, it was Hilda’s turn to freeze in shock. He released her hand and reeled back, face completely red. 

Frantic heartbeats counted the seconds as they stared at each other, an awkward silence permeating the room as the sun set outside the window. Then, Hilda laughed loudly and indignantly. For a split-second Caspar relaxed, but tensed back up again when she flung her arms around his neck.

“That’s a good start to the favor I really want you to do.”

“Oh,” he squeaked. “What do—what favor is that?”

Hilda tilted her head towards her bed with a smirk. Caspar glanced at it and swallowed.

Arching up as high as she could reach, she purred, “Do I need to spell that out for you too?” before planting a smooch on his Adam’s apple.

He swallowed again, then immediately, cleared his throat. “Nope. Think I, uh, got it.”

A shiver wracked his body when Hilda kissed him again, this time wet and wide just under the jaw.

“Hey, Hilda,” he muttered, voice quavering as her mouth continued to meander along his neck, decorating it with small, slow kisses. “I, uh, I know I said I’d do any favor for you, but, uh, I can’t do _that_ for you.”

Her lips froze against his skin. Somehow she'd misunderstood. The same refrain as always repeated in the back of her mind: of course she wasn’t good enough.

His body went limp under her grasp. “I really don’t wanna disappoint you, but I don’t think that's a good idea. Sorry.”

Dejected, she pulled away with something bitter stinging the back of her throat. This is why she waited for people to figure out what she wanted. All those compliments he'd spouted earlier would surely be regretted now.

She laughed dryly, “Me? Disappointed? Ha, no. As if. I’m sorry, Caspar. If anything you probably are pretty disappointed _in_ _me_ , huh?”

Caspar shifted uncomfortably. “Why would I be disappointed in you?”

“Take your pick: lazy, careless, irresponsible. Obviously I’m not one for noble etiquette if I’m bringing you in here to, um, you know.” One hand fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. “I don’t like it when someone expects a lot from me, but I guess I was expecting a lot from you, huh? I was being even more selfish than usual.”

He remained quiet a moment, mulling over her response, surely deciding that he was, indeed, disappointed, come to think of it. 

Instead, he surprised her with his nonchalance. “I don’t know about all that. I don’t really care what’s proper or the right way of doing something. If anything I’m kind of flattered.”

She raised a brow. “Flattered? Don’t tease me, Caspar.” He'd just refused her after all.

A shy grin stretched across his face. “Yeah, I’m flattered that my first kiss was with you. And that you want to, uh, have, you know, sex with me, I guess.” 

“What?” She gaped, flabbergasted for a moment. “That was your _first_ kiss?”

“Um, yeah.” He looked away, crimson down to his neck now. “I’m not really good with romance stuff. And it’s not like there are marriage proposals coming in for second sons. I mean, I gotta work on getting stronger. It’s kinda never been a big deal.”

Hilda relaxed slightly. “I knew you were a muscle-head and oblivious, but I figured looking like you do, someone would’ve made an advance on you.”

He cocked a brow and cracked a cheeky smile. “Looking like I do?” 

She offered him a look that she hoped told him he was an idiot.

Nevertheless, his smirk remained. “Right now, I actually feel like I’m a pretty special guy. You’re not so straight forward with just anyone, so I think I’m pretty lucky to see this side of you. Can I be blunt with you too?”

She nodded in assent and his manner turned bashful.

“I like you a lot, Hilda. I want to stay by your side, protecting you, cuz if something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

Hilda blushed, but tried to dismiss his words. Her looks and crest were things people always appreciated. Something less superficial? That seemed impossible.

“Well, of course you’d miss my cute face. Who wouldn’t?"

“I’d miss more than that.” His voice held his sincerity, but he bounced his knee to an unknown rhythm, his usual itch to be in motion escalating with his embarrassment. “I’d miss you patching me up and cheering me on when I fight, and I dunno, never judging me, I guess. I like a whole lot about you. All of it really. Subtract one thing, and it wouldn’t be you.”

Caspar closed the distance between them with one wide step and his voice peaked confidently. “And you like me back—the same way, I can tell. Why else bring me to your room?” 

Hilda’s pulse echoed in her ears. She fumbled, still clinging to denial. “I didn’t say that. I was just using you to get what I want...”

“Yeah, and I figured out exactly what you wanted now.” Caspar’s hand swept timidly over her shoulder and held. “You want me to want you, right? Really want _you?_ And, I really do, Hilda.”

Her mouth went dry and his words echoed in her mind, somehow sounding like they were a memory of a dream. Yet his hand on her shoulder was solid and real. When she spoke she could barely manage a whisper. “Maybe... but that seems like an awfully big favor, don’t you think?”

“It’s not a favor. I’m not going out of my way to like you. I just do.”

Hilda swore her heart stopped.

“Fine!” she relented. “I like you, too!”

Caspar’s smile spread wide and Hilda wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or kiss him. He had the nerve to laugh, but he looked so handsome doing so, _smitten_ just seemed too weak of a word to describe how she felt. _Enamored_ might do her emotions better justice.

He tugged her close and bent down, bringing his face close to hers. “Can’t promise I’ll be any good, but I really want to kiss you.”

Hilda puffed a laugh. His dauntless naivety was always rather charming. Things definitely weren't going as planned, but the turn of events was equally exciting, perhaps even more rewarding than she had initially anticipated. Caspar felt the same and had offered his feelings without the need for manipulation or requests. 

“Maybe I’ll make an exception this one time and do _you_ a favor. I can’t say I really mind training Caspar von Bergliez in the secret combat art of kissing. Who knows? Maybe you have a hidden talent for it.”

Despite his deep blush, he grinned ecstatically. “I’m always up for training.”

He leaned nearer, but Hilda drew away, clearly disappointing him. Quickly, she grabbed his hand and led him to the bed, urging him to sit beside her.

“It will be more comfortable this way. You’re too tall,” she explained with a laugh as he hesitated, glancing anxiously at the messy—perhaps inviting—sheets. 

Caspar sank down and wet his lip. “Tall, huh? That’s not something I hear very often.”

She scooted closer and her knee brushed against his own. “Well, compared to me.”

He frowned at that explanation so she hurried to amend. “Actually, I think you’re the perfect height for me. It’s not _too_ much effort to stand on my toes to kiss you. Jumping or having to ask every time? Sheesh! No thank you.”

He brightened up slightly, which inspired her to continue the string of compliments. “Standing next to you and all your muscles—” she walked her fingers up his arm and felt him shiver— “I look pretty dainty, don’t you think? A big, strong hunk to protect me. Just what I’ve always wanted.”

He cracked a grin and teased, “Ah, don’t stop. I like hearing how impressive I am. Big and strong and handsome. What else?”

She cupped either side of his face. “Hopefully the best kisser in all of Fodlan after tonight.”

“Woah, setting the bar pretty high aren’t you?”

“What’s wrong with that? Thought you enjoyed rising to any challenge?”

Caspar scoffed, “Pfft! Yeah! You want the best kisser in Fodlan? Then you’ll get him! You're not gonna wanna kiss anyone else ever again!”

Hilda shook from giggling. “I can’t wait to be swooning.” She reduced the distance between their faces and breathed, “Ready?”

She swore he stopped breathing—or maybe that was her—and he nodded.

Her glossy lips quirked into a small smile and Hilda slowly closed the remaining proximity between them. He watched her expectantly and a knot formed in her stomach. She stopped just shy of touching lips. His quick, hot breath tickled her skin and she could hear the drumbeat of his heart as his rapid fire pulse thumped under her fingers. Cyan eyes remained locked on her despite his obvious unease, and even though the moon bathed the room in a low glow, she could see all the colors in those blue irises. No, it was not that she saw but remembered—had memorized the exact shade, the precise way they sparkled, the specific way the crescents of his lids hid them when he grinned or grimaced. Reluctantly, she closed her eyes.

Their lips met in a chaste kiss and Caspar's whole body went rigid. Hilda kissed him again, and then again. Slow and careful, offering him time to get used to the sensation. Finally, she was rewarded with his timid and shaky mimicry. When she peeked at him, she saw he'd closed his eyes, lulled into some sense of comfort or rapture.

  


She led him through the motion, trading short smooches in a back and forth pattern. His confidence grew with each one, and he surprised her when tentative hands gripped her waist. Hilda's excitement swelled and her pace quickened. She wanted—no, demanded—more. Caspar rose to her speed, but it was still far too innocent despite the fact that he was no longer faltering. 

Finally, she grew bolder and sucked in his bottom lip. When she tugged it, he groaned ever so softly, and Hilda relished the sound. That encouraged his mouth to part and she took advantage. Drawing him closer, she bore her body weight against his chest and kissed wider, wetter, and hungrier. 

He fumbled to copy her, unable to sync to her rhythm, not stretching open wide enough, bumping his nose against hers as she weaved around, exploring every inch of his mouth. Each individual kiss ended all too soon despite her best attempt to urge a continuation, but worse of all, her task became incredibly difficult when a wide, stupid grin unfurled on his face, hindering his all ready poor attempts at kisses.

Hilda wrenched away, breathing hard. “It’s kind of hard to kiss you when you’re grinning like that,” she complained.

Even though he was nowhere near an adequate kisser just yet, she craved his touch more than she wanted to admit. 

“Can’t help it.” He grinned even wider. “Hilda Goneril is kissing _me_ of all people _.”_

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’d be just as excited if any cute girl was kissing you.”

“Not any cute girl. _You_.”

Hilda laughed lightly to hide her doubts. “I’m really nothing special.”

Caspar’s hand wandered to the nape of her neck and pulled her close again. “Everything is special about you, Hilda.”

She broke his gaze. “Thought you don’t like lying, Caspar.”

“I don’t.”

He kissed her cheek, light and sweet, blissful proof that he had mastered chaste kissing at the very least. She involuntarily shuddered.

“I told you before. I like how nonjudgmental you are and how carefree you are. If more people were like you, I think the world would be pretty great.” He kissed the corner of her mouth and she responded the same as before. His eyes flickered with triumph. “But I kind of like there only being one of you. And how lucky am I that with all the people in Fodlan, not only did I meet Hilda, but she’s kissing me? She’s super strong, really reliable despite her insistence that she isn’t, super considerate, and really, really beautiful.”

Playfully, Hilda hit his shoulder, hoping to distract him from feeling how hot her neck was under his grasp. Her effort was rendered useless as he pressed another kiss upon one of her burning cheeks.

“Stop it.”

Another kiss. This time on her lips. And she could feel the curve of his grin against them.

“Stop it,” she repeated. “You’re making me grin too.”

Despite her best attempts, she couldn’t force back her smile. His own was just too infectious and grew wider at her admittance.

Eager on both sides, their mouths came together once again, grin haphazardly sliding against grin. Each kiss fell short, but the laughter ringing between them pumped exhilaration into Hilda’s veins.

Lost to dizzying enamorment, she wasn’t even aware she pulled him down onto the bed until he broke their fractured kissing with a weighted, shuddering breath. He watched her intently, eyes dark in a way she had never seen them before. They’d been manic with bloodlust and defiant in self-justified anger, but never heady and lustful like they were now. She caressed his cheek and he leaned into it longingly. 

Caspar’s voice was deep when he spoke, “Lay it on me. What can I do to improve?”

Hilda hummed in amusement and ghosted her lips along his jaw. “Where to begin?” she teased, earning a pout. “You’re too eager to end the kiss. It shouldn’t all be the same rhythm. Think of it like the flow of a fight. You wouldn’t use the same move over and over on me, right? Be sporadic, spontaneous, I don’t want to predict what you’re going to do. I’m your opponent, but I want you to ravish me, Caspar.”

Under her fingers, she could feel him stiffen. “Uh, okay,” he muttered hesitantly and lined up their faces again.

Their eyes locked and he glanced shyly to her lips and back up to her eyes, then back, unable to hold her gaze. It was kind of cute to see the man who always had so much confidence so undone with nerves. She touched her fingertips to his jaw.  
  
“Come on, Caspar. Where’s all that passion and fighting spirit that has me so smitten? You wreck through enemies on the front lines, make a wreck of me. Restraints off.” She nuzzled her nose against his. 

A small smile quirked his lips and now he met her eyes with his usual bravery. “So basically to be a better kisser I need to stop holding back, huh?” he hummed coyly.

“Yep.”

“And be impulsive?”

“Definitely.”

“Just let loose?”

“Please.”

“I think I got it.”

Something feral flickered in his eyes. Before she blinked again, his lips mashed against hers, forcing hers to part. He swallowed her gasp and sucked in her lip, fervent and insistent. He tugged and held. Hilda groaned. She swore he snickered as he released her. In a flash, he snatched up her lips again, maneuvering across her top lip, sipping and releasing in a swift, sloppy, wet, and somehow still tender way. The dance of the kiss became relentless and unpredictable, and Hilda lost herself in the trance of it. Exhilarated, she poured herself into it, challenging his frantic, ardent movement with offsets of languid, savoring plateaus. Finally, they fell into an alignment, trading the lead, open mouthed and hungry balanced by short and sweet, long draws allied with peppered smooches. 

Hilda had kissed many guys before, but not like this. Caspar was anything but boring. These kisses were liberating and intoxicating, and when he pulled away, breathless, the absence of his touch left her hollow. 

“Better?” he asked innocently, heaving on her chest.

“So much better,” she practically gushed. She definitely sounded stupid, spellbond in a daze. “You’re picking this up faster than I expected.”

“Heh, I’m a pretty fast learner when it comes to physical stuff.”

She cocked a brow. “Combine that with your boundless energy, and I think I may be looking forward to quite the spectacle on some otherwise boring nights.”

Caspar reddened. Still, he boldly met her gaze and said hotly, “Then we better train a lot in preparation.”

This time it was Hilda’s turn to blush. 

She fumbled for a retort. “Y-you’re the one who stopped!” she accused.

“Thought you’d be tired,” he huffed with a shrug. “Always saying how delicate and fragile you are and stuff.”  
  
“You’re right, I _am_ delicate and somehow I’m not ravished yet.” She collapsed back onto the bed, practically exhibiting herself. “Guess you're not a top tier kisser quite yet. Or even mid-tier if you can’t even get delicate lil Hilda to swoon.”

Caspar inhaled deeply and puffed out his chest. “Well, I’m just getting started. You haven’t seen my best moves yet.”

Hilda rolled her eyes. “Prove it then,” she prompted.

“I will!” 

Hastily, he stalked back over her and lunged, capturing her mouth in a scorching kiss. Hilda’s gleeful laugh was muffled by the press of his mouth, and she quickly became enraptured again. Her hands wrapped around his back, urging him closer. He inched nearer, but remained sprawled out to her side, propped up on his hip, groin safely turned away. She yearned to feel him pressed against her, but relented that it was a selfish desire. 

The passionate exchange continued until Caspar’s tongue caressed the top of her gum, effectively startling her to a pause. He retracted it quickly enough and when she drew back, Caspar looked anxious.

“I haven’t taught you that,” she breathed, but kissed him again so he wouldn’t be discouraged.

“If it’s like sparring, then you gotta surprise your opponent to get the upper hand,” he teased with a laugh, like he was some expert after an hour.

In retaliation, she kissed him again and darted her tongue inside his mouth. It brushed against the bottom of his before retreating. She repeated the action, still shallow but this time grazed the top. His flicked against hers in pursuit, and the game intensified, tagging back and forth. Leading by example for variation, she slid hers along the back of his teeth before plunging it deeper and they entangled. He groaned deep in his throat and responded ravenously, gulping her up with ferocious, primal desire.

Hilda welcomed the intensity and eagerly let him invade all her senses. Hot breath; warmer hands racking up her shoulders, gripping her so tight that he’d surely leave a pink impression; the baffling scent of cinnamon on his clothes; the subtly sweet yet zesty taste of ginger on his tongue; the excited and titillated sighs he made as they explored each other with mouth and hands. It was all delicious and she couldn’t help her growing zeal. 

This time when she pulled, he clambered over her, knee on either side of her thighs, arching down into the embrace. The kiss continued, growing more and more invigorated as the time ticked away. It ebbed and flowed, spiking in vehemence and then retreating to flirty pecks and suckles. He had barely explored her, and somehow she was teetering on the edge of covet thirst. Maybe it was because he didn’t venture a deviant grope that made her want, want, want.

But Hilda couldn’t wait anymore. 

He had slumped slightly down within the seconds, minutes, hours they had spent swapping kisses, but still crouched a few inches above her hips. Risking a chance, Hilda craned up and rolled her hips against his, delighting in the feel of his arousal against her pelvis. Caspar gasped so loud, so sharp, she barely heard the drone of the cathedral bells.

He yanked away from their embrace. “I should probably go,” he huffed, rising up and shifting back on his knees. “It’s late.”

“Stay,” she breathed, voice so raw with want she barely recognized it as her own. She reached for his sleeve and tugged gently.

He covered his mouth, running fingers over his lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We don’t have to do anything. I just want you to hold me and keep kissing me until we fall asleep. Please, Caspar. I’m swooning now, okay?” That was the best compliment she could manage in her lightheaded haze.

He wet his swollen lips and rubbed his neck, and he looked damn sexy doing it. “All right,” he agreed. “If that’s all...then that’s fine.”

“I knew I’d persuade you!”

She rose up on her elbows and slipped her feet out from under him, careful not to graze any sensitive areas. Scooting past him and skipping off the bed, she giggled, “I just need to slip into my nightgown.”

His eyes stretched impossibly wide.

Sauntering to her closet, she peered over her shoulder. Caspar remained frozen in the same pose she left him.

In the sultriest voice she could muster, she crooned, “I don’t mind if you peek.”

Instantly, his head snapped to the wall. The reaction made her giggle again. Quickly, she scavenged through the pile of clothes tossed around the wardrobe and retrieved her most provocative nightgown. 

Her attention returned to Caspar as she stripped, tossing boots, stockings, and skirts haphazardly on the floor. To her disappointment he was more noble than she expected and did not so much afford her a moment’s glance.

In revenge, she decided to tease him a little bit. “You should undress too.” He flinched. “At least take your boots and coat off.”

“Y-yeah,” he agreed hesitantly.

She could see his hands shake as he fumbled to remove his belt. Even more awkwardly, he stood and trudged off his coat and overshirt. Next, he yanked his boots off, ungraciously stumbling. His vision remained fixed on the wall, stubbornly not surrendering to curiosity.

Figuring she waited long enough, she pulled on the nightgown. No need to put on a show if he wasn’t going to look. The garment was light and silky with a low neckline and the thinnest straps for support.

Releasing her trapped hair from the bodice, she announced, “I’m decent now! Thanks for being so chivalrous.”

Nimbly, she moved to her desk to remove her earrings and brush out her hair. Through the mirror, she could see Caspar’s nervous pace. Guilt pricked her conscience. Maybe she had pressured him too much. 

Hilda finished and returned to Caspar’s side. Instantly, his eyes drifted over her outfit and then snapped back to her face as if he’d been caught, as if that’s not what she wanted. Reassuredly, she took his arm and maneuvered them back to the edge of the bed. She pulled aside the covers and folded herself beneath them, snuggling into the pillow. Caspar stood paralyzed for several counts, but finally found the courage to join her. Yet he remained tense and guarded, positioned on the other end of the pillow. One little push and he’d fall off the small bed. With two there was no space to stretch out, but that was the opposite of what she wanted to do anyway. Hilda slipped closer, bumping his knee with her own. 

However, the way he stiffened, hunching up even more at the contact, gave her pause. 

“I’m a little scared too, you know,” Hilda admitted.

He scoffed and rushed to his own defense. “What? No way! I’m not scared.”

An ironically poor lie from the anti-liar. Hilda played along though. “Of course not. You’re brave and strong. That’s why you got all these scars, right?” With featherlight touches, she trailed her fingertips over his exposed bicep and she could see his muscles tremble through his turtleneck.

“Yeah, something like that.” The response remained stiff.

“Do you know how you got this one?” She tapped one that ran from the inset of his elbow to his wrist.

Caspar didn’t bother looking down. “Yeah, of course.”

“Then entertain me. Tell me the daring tale.”

The way his lips curved up into a smug, confident grin made her heart flutter. He relaxed and propped himself up on one elbow. In response, Hilda settled in for the story, tucking her arm under her pillow for support.

“I got it from a red wolf,” he began nonchalantly as he twisted his forearm over, showing off the wound, revealing a second jagged slash a few inches apart from the one she had pointed out. “Probably about three years ago now when I was traveling around Galatea land, trying to keep as far away from the Empire as possible.”

“That’s right. You didn’t go back home—to Bergliez territory—when the war broke out, huh?”

“Nope. And I never plan to.”

The ghosts of regret or remorse spirited across his eyes so Hilda changed the subject, probing, “Anyway, continue. How’d the wolf get the best of you?”

“It didn’t get the best of me!” 

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “That’s a _pretty_ deep scar.”

“It just got one good swipe in! I showed it, okay?” He laid back down into the pillow with an offended huff. “There were some kids who had gone missing in one of the mountain towns. I was passing through and heard about it. Everyone kept saying they probably were eaten by the red wolves and their mother was standing in the town square begging some coward hunter to go look for them, but the wuss wouldn’t. Hearing all that, I couldn’t just do nothing, so I agreed to go looking for them.”

“Always so gallant.”

“Well, _someone’s_ gotta look out for the little guy. Not like their own duke or count or whatever was paying attention to anything but the war effort. Anyway, I found the kids wandering around about a third of the way up the mountain right before nightfall.”

“And they were okay? I’m surprised you found them.”  
  
“Of course I did. My instinct led me right to them. They were hungry and crying, but mostly okay. I was carrying them down the path when the red wolves came out. Snuck up on us from all sides. Didn’t see them until those red eyes were right in front of me.”

“What about your instinct?” Hilda laughed. “Does it only work for tracking children?”

He turned and gave her an unamused look. “Hey, you try hearing your instinct when you’re trying to calm two scared kids.”

He looked back at the ceiling, clearly reliving the moment. His voice grew in excitement as he continued the story, and his arms became quite animated. “So! One lunged at me! I tried to jump away but it got me, clawed me real good across the arm. That’s how I got this.” He lifted his arm up. “But better me than the kid. I kicked it away, kids started completely bailing. Ran like hell until I could put them safely between me and some trees. Got out my axe and I sliced through those wolves like they were nothing! There must have been five—no, six of them, and they’re real big, you know, but I showed them! I remember one of them crawling around me, trying to sneak up on one of the kids, and I whipped around and bang—cleaved its head right off!”

“Gross!” Hilda gagged, sticking out her tongue for emphasis.

“It was awesome!” Caspar gloated.

“So you brought the kids home?”

“Yup!” He turned back to face her, obviously more comfortable now. “Their mother wept all over me. I led some of the men back up the next morning to get the carcasses so they could skin them and cook the meat and stuff.”

Hilda propped herself up on her elbows, cupping her face in her hands. “What even were you doing in Galatea?”

“Nothing much. Was just sort of wandering, helping people if I saw they needed it. Didn’t even have a penny to my name, but neither does anyone in Galatea. But they’re good people, gave me the furs to sell.”

“I always wanted to travel around, but, eh, I couldn’t do the whole vagabond life. Sleeping out with the dirt and the bugs instead of a cozy inn with a soft bed? No thank you!”

He gawked at her. “What? You’ve marched out and slept in the barracks a ton. You could totally make it out there!”

“Only against my will, Caspar!”

“Well, when you’re traveling like I did, it’s never against your will. You’re completely free! No one can tell you what to do! No professors, or fathers, or—"

“Or brothers…”

“Yeah, no brothers.” He smirked. “I think you’d like it. You said you don’t want anyone tying you down. Great way to break the ties. Just run away from it all.”

“Not being under the thumb of my brother sounds nice, but the dirt? I don’t know. And Holst would be heartbroken! I don’t know if I could do that to him.”

She flopped back down, but had to admit the stirring way he spoke made wanderlust pretty enticing.

He waved his arm, dismissively. “Eh, who cares what your brother thinks? You can still write to him and let him know you’re perfectly fine! And if you stick with me you’ll be safe, and I’d show you all these amazing places, and—”

“Stick with you, huh?” she repeated. Caspar blushed and clamped his mouth closed.

“Y-yeah, if you wanted.” He offered a weak shrug.

“It’d be really cold, wouldn’t it? I’d need something or _someone_ to keep me warm.” She inched closer. “Would you keep me warm, Caspar?”

He wet his lip before he replied, “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m cold now, you know.”

Caspar hesitated, but eventually opened up his arms. Hilda tittered and snuggled into the nook of his shoulder, resting her head on his chest, which raised suddenly with a nervous draw of air.

Wide awake, they laid in silence for a while. The cathedral bell rang again, announcing the close of another hour. Hilda listened to his heartbeat, observing its rapid pulse slowly calming. His muscles unwound and time pacified his anxious breathing. Against her exposed skin, he was delightfully warm. 

“Your bed smells like you,” he whispered shyly, disrupting the quiet. “It’s kind of...nice.”

“You like my perfume, hmm?” she teased, and then took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cinnamon on his clothes and what she had decided could perhaps be cloves in his hair. “You smell surprisingly good too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he grumbled.

“Well, you’re always training and getting all sweaty.”

“Wow. You act like I don’t bathe after or something.”

“The smell suits you. It’s sweet but a bit rough. Like you.” Hilda nuzzled her face into his neck. “I like sweet things.”

Tentatively, she placed an open mouth kiss on his throat. Caspar gasped and his grip tightened on her arm. She moved her mouth a little further down his neck, this time sucking gently. He responded with a grunt and tilted his head back. Nipping once more for fun, she drew her mouth to his ear and whispered, “You like that, eh?”

“You keep teasing me,” he complained in a slightly strained voice.

She kissed his cheek. “Not this time. I want to know what you like.”

“Oh. Then, yeah, I guess so.”

“Any spot in particular?” She grazed her teeth along his jugular and Caspar arched slightly, inhaling slowly. Teasingly, she kissed and sucked various sections, carding her fingernails up through his hair at the same time. 

“There,” he gasped when she reached a spot behind his ear.

Hilda hummed and pecked it sweetly before sipping the skin in, sucking a wet love bite. Caspar inhaled sharply and groaned wantonly. She drew back after a final flick of her tongue.

“Sorry, it will probably bruise. But you’re used to those, right?”

Caspar stared at her with half lidded eyes before she found his lips again. He kissed her back hungrily, and she couldn’t help but preen at the fruits of their training. 

“Where—what other spots do you like being kissed?” he asked when they parted for air.

She simpered and rubbed her nose against his. “Oh, my dear Caspar, you’re not ready to kiss me there.”

He glanced down to her breasts. “You’re…”

“Good guess, but nope!” Hilda smirked and then kissed along his jawbone, coming to a stop at the corner of his ear. She lapped up his earlobe and tugged rather belligerently. He groaned again. She strummed her tongue on the edge and then drew back.

“Now you know some new moves. Want to put some combos together, Caspar?”

Caspar smirked and cupped her face. “Yeah, sounds fun.” 

Their lips collided and moved in electric patterns. Somehow there was a harmony amongst the mayhem. Open, wet, and wide kisses, followed by his teeth pulling her lower lip, and then her retaliating tongue darting into his mouth. Caspar countered her every advance with relentless enthusiasm. Each move more spontaneous and impassioned than the last, and Hilda stubbornly fought to surprise and excite him as well. Chaotic and urgent, it was the only battle Hilda could lose herself in as a willing participant. 

Hilda kissed his cheek and Caspar’s mouth found her neck. The kiss was gentle but persistent. Her fingers returned to his scalp, drawing circles through his short hair as his tongue laved a line across her pulse point before finding a section just under her jaw to suck. Hilda’s breath hitched and she urged him closer. He intensified his ministrations, sucking wider and harder, catalyzing desire into her entire body. Her fingernails latched into his shoulders and she moaned loud and lasciviously. 

Caspar pulled back, eyes full of alarm. Greedily, she drew him back and mewled reassurances, “I like it. Don’t stop, Caspar.” 

His mouth found a new spot to bruise, and he set to work, encouraged by her approving noises.

Her hands roamed over his back and shoulders, carving out his muscles and bones into her memory. More excited sighs escaped her lips and she slipped her fingers under the edge of his shirt. His skin was taut and searing. The unrestricted contact startled him to a pause. He shuddered but then kissed her chin, trailing up to capture her mouth again. Her hands inched higher and rucked up his shirt, gliding over his shoulders and sturdy spine.

“Like my muscles?” he boasted and favored her a smug grin.

“Very much,” she purred, rubbing her hands up and down for emphasis. “Want to show them off to me?”

Caspar contemplated her request a moment before acquiescing. “All right.” 

He rose onto his knees and hunched up to grab the hem, but Hilda stopped him.

“It’s no fun if you don’t let me do it,” she chided.

Caspar froze, slightly entangled, and released the fabric. She met his eye for approval, and tugged the garment the rest of the way off and over his head. It fell to the floor beside the bed. Hair tousled, he looked away, but relaxed back onto an elbow. 

“Goddess Caspar!” Hilda praised and earned a blush from him. “You’re so handsome.”

Tentatively, she sprawled her hands on his abdomen. Caspar held his breath. Hilda studied his reaction as she crept her fingers up his chest, tracing over every rise and dip of his musculature and ever welt and inset of a scar. Small shivers shook his body, and she wasn’t certain if it was excitement or nerves. Daringly, she pressed a kiss onto his naval and finally, he released his breath in surprise. She took that as encouragement enough and adorned his chest with more kisses, weaving a path back to his lips. 

Caspar met her kiss eagerly and clutched her against his bare torso. His touch became adventurous, wandering down her back and over her hips, excitedly exploring but still remaining respectful. His kisses, too, explored, sporadically darting between her mouth, cheek, neck and ear. 

Eventually, Hilda pulled him over her. He followed without protest, mouth locked on hers. Her hand reached between them and pulled down one strap of her nightgown.

“You can look at me too if you want,” she breathed. “Touch too.” She puffed out her chest and stretched into a hopefully tempting pose.

Caspar examined her under dark eyes. His chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths, and in their recent fumbling she had felt that his excitement reached his lower half as well. 

He grabbed the strap of the gown. But instead of tugging it down like she expected, he brought it back up. “Not tonight, Hilda.”

She held her breath, rejection spearing through her once again. After swallowing, she looked away. “Sorry, I was being selfish again.”

Caspar rested back besides her and pulled her close. She almost protested, but his grip was firm.

He waited until she looked at him and explained, “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to. I _really_ want to do that and other stuff. I mean, I still can’t believe I’m here right now, like this, with _you_. But, I gotta admit, I’m really worried that I’ll mess this up.”

She tried to refrain from pouting but was certain she was, indeed, pouting. “Oh, Caspar, there’s no possible way you can mess up.”

He laughed lightly. “Really? Cuz, I know I rush into a lot of stuff without thinking. Usually stuff works out, but sometimes it doesn’t, and I really want to do right by you. I think you’re amazing, Hilda, and I want you to live how you want, so I gotta protect you from my recklessness. So this is good for now. I don’t need anything else.”

“And this is enough?” Hilda sunk into his embrace, finally relaxing.

“Of course! Every moment with you is pretty great!”

Hilda closed her eyes, remaining silent a moment before she whispered, “Every moment with you makes me feel free.”

Caspar chuckled and squeezed her. “Yeah, same. That’s why you're so fun to be around.”

She glared at him. “Stop saying nice things like that! You can’t possibly mean every one of them.”  
  
“Of course I do. I like everything about you.”

“Stop it!” Her resistance earned her more laughter. “You...you really know how to make a girl feel smitten, you know that?”

He leaned his forehead upon hers. “Good. Cuz I’m pretty smitten with you, too.”

A doubtlessly silly smile spread across her face and she pecked his lips before burrowing deeper into his embrace, feeling childishly giddy. Somehow Caspar saw her in ways others didn’t, appreciated what others faulted. Even this simple touch, connected by heat and skin and breath, reminded Hilda she was alive, liberated her, made her feel worthy of the praise he spoke, maybe even worth loving. Hilda was enough as she was.

Loudly, she whined, “Ugh! How can I fall asleep when you keep saying stuff like that!” She kicked him lightly under the covers, the only retaliation she could think of for how he made her heart hammer incessantly.

“Too bad! Guess we’ll have to keep training!” Caspar snatched her mouth in a searing kiss.

Hilda giggled when they parted for air. “Not that I mind, but don’t you meet Raphael disgustingly early to do your actual training? You’re going to be exhausted.”

Caspar smiled wide and stupid for the millionth time that night. 

“Worth it!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed and if you like Caspar/Hilda check out my other work or find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/roxyryoko)


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